Mwaha! ROA has an actual project manager--and Marshal has gotten a coder on board. Hopefully this means that I will soon no longer be embarrassed to give out the link for the ROA site.

Still bummed about Steamcom...slight hope I might still make it, but chances are slim.

I have noticed, within myself, a recently developed, or at least recently realized disturbing reading habit. My brain refuses to finish books. I will read a book up until the last ten or twenty pages and stop. I will then conceive of every excuse possible as to the reason why I cannot finish the book--or in the case of a series of books, I will ( Read more... )

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Yes, I realize Deathmask is all out of order now, but it doesn't matter! I'm deleting it from LJ (leaving the illos up) since I've moved it over to FFNET, where it can be posted all in order without fancy trickery and the inability to actually post anything to my LJ itself.

Nearly two hours had passed by the time the Opera Ghost was on his way back to his home. Without the talent of his ventriloquist's voice, procuring the meal had been a little more difficult than he'd anticipated, and he had eventually left the scene feeling a bit sullen, having taken both the food and a basket to carry it in like a common thief ( Read more... )

And alone he awoke, stiff and sore from his night on the cramped sofa; it seemed his bones would be forever bent and bowed as he stood and tried to stretch them out. He must have fallen asleep quite early, and slept quite late as the fire was out. She would have found it too chill to leave her room, but he felt nothing against the cold. Still, ( Read more... )

The hall was winter cold, dark. He had let the fires burn out and locked his door, left it as a sort of museum to his memory. The world should not remember such a beastly thing as Erique, but perhaps his music, at least, would be found one day. He remembered a shallow hurt in his chest as he'd covered the beloved organ and extinguished the lamps ( Read more... )

He tried to suppress his slowly waking mind, wanting to sink back into the warm and comfortable sleep that had consumed and soothed his thoughts, fear rising in the pit of his heart until he shifted with a groan and felt the bony protrusions of his protector's body under his stiff neck and against the fingers of his twitching hand. He allowed his ( Read more... )

    Phoebe hung low and huge in the sky, glowing with a yellow-orange light, a pregnant goddess swimming through the rich navy velvet, oblivious to the cares and worries of the little creatures she overlooked. It lit up the mask-set it ablaze in the most frightening manner, a twin to the moon, but angry and vengeful. The face behind it, however, ( Read more... )